YOUTH
by SHOUJOCK
Summary: In which the gang and the rest of the lot can live a (marginally) tranquil life as we've always desired for them to have. Also a shamelessly abused alternate universe theme and setting just because it'll make it a little spicier.
1. DISCLAIMER!

**BASICALLY** :

A friend of mine has bribed me to create this-a twist on the dragon ball franchise in which the whole gang lives a relatively peaceful and normal life. Since it's a high school AU, and god knows all the type of _dumb_ _shit_ a high school kid can get dragged into so it goes without saying there will be some mature content everyone once and a while. Naturally, given the fandom there will be violence and perhaps a little gore. I'm not sure how dark I'll make this story, if I decide to at all. Not to worry, I'll add triggers before hand if I find it necessary.

Comments and such are greatly appreciated, I hope you'll be able to enjoy this as much as I will.


	2. TONGUE TIED

— **YOU DON"T FORGET PEOPLE LIKE THAT. THEY FORGET YOU.**

Chi-Chi Mau is a fighter.

It's not a deep psychological passion she's nurtured through the ages, _honestly_ , However, at age 5, it had occurred to her father that she would grow to be a beautiful woman, and the signs were already quite apparent. Naturally, the next step was to ensure she would be capable enough to defend herself beforehand. Even when their riches had been reduced to nothing but ash he'd provide everything Chi-Chi would think to ask and more. He'd sacrifice so much, and the knowledge of that alone brought an easy smile to her lips.

She thinks of this on her way down the hallway by the end of the first day of school, then considering the pros and cons of stopping by a convenience store on the way home for something more substantial to eat than a cup of ramen. It's enough to occupy her thoughts but not enough to hold her attention in the face of anything at all interesting; when a hum of consternation sweeps down the hall it seizes her wandering focus, brings her feet to a halt and her head up to see what's going on.

There's not much to see, as it turns out. A handful of people are coming down the hall, not quite panicked enough to run but moving fast enough that their footsteps scuff against the floor; all of them are looking behind, watching for some oncoming threat that Chi-Chi doesn't see. They brand the freshman colors, just a years below her.

"Hey," she says as they approach, clustered together with the instinct for safety in numbers. The group eyes Chi-Chi like a single organism, their eyes wide on adrenaline; it takes them a moment to stop for her question, another for her to be sure she has their attention. "What's going on?"

"A fight," one of the group says, weighing the words like they have some kind of deep meaning Chi-Chi is unaware of. "Out back." Chi-Chi strains to roll her eyes."Sounds like fun," She drawls, Fights aren't that common, but there's no way this school can be _that_ polished that a scuffle is enough to cause this kind of panic.

Another of the cluster shakes her head in a burst of motion made frantic by its speed. "No way," she says, taking another step forward. "Goku's fighting, it's dangerous to be within a mile of that."

Chi-Chi squints, her lips dragging to the side as she tries to piece together meaning from their words. "Who?"

"Son Goku!" Another boy huffs, looking almost winded. He's unnaturally pale.

Chi-Chi can feel her mouth drop a little, though the boy emits a generic sound of impatience. "I'm sorry miss, if you don't know who that is you can go see the fight for yourself and I'm sure you'll never forget it! If I were you I'd leave though, school's out anyway." The boy ushers in one breath, "Oh." She breaths, but the group's already retreating down the hallway in a cluster of matching uniforms and wide eyes. "Thank you!" Chi-Chi calls before she's fully rounded the corner back in the direction they came from, breaking into a sprint.

Chi-Chi's seen fistfights before, and partook in a fair share herself. She lacks the stocky build to seem like a real threat, often underestimated which more so than not does give her the benefit of the doubt. Really, it's more fun when doubted but despite this, she's not actively seeking them out. She tries. Really she does. Drawn-out fights are inefficient, a slow collection of blood and bruises until one party can't muster the will to go on, and even that leaves the victor bruised and battered into a state that's no kind of win that Chi-Chi really wants.

What she finds at the back of the school isn't a fistfight, though. It's a _brawl_ , the collection of dozens of bodies attacking in a swarm like ants trying to overwhelm a resistant grasshopper. There's already a good amount of students grouped the track at every angle a safe distance from the chaos. Some are wearing the school uniform; most are not, preferring leather jackets or open coats with the weight of embroidery across the back. Chi-Chi recognizes the insignia of at least one gang, one of the more prominent in the city, and at least half the group aren't students at all, judging by the breadth of their shoulders and the advantage of height they have as they come in. If this student, Son Goku, is under that, Chi-Chi thinks he'll be lucky to come out alive, much less without any of his bones unbroken.

And then there is movement. It's like a wave, an earthquake, some natural force pushing back the crush of bodies like a shock wave rushing out through them. It takes a moment for the crowd to clear enough for Chi-Chi to see what's happening, and even once she sees it it's another breath before she believes. There _is_ a student in the midst of the chaos. A boy wearing the school colors and the same uniform Chi-Chi's seen the other male sophomore students have on although it looks somewhat more tattered from the fight. He himself looks ordinary enough, but what he's _doing_ is impossible, even for someone as willing to accept the inconceivable as Chi-Chi is. He has a pole in his hands, a length of crumpled metal nearly twice his height; there's a net behind him, what Chi-Chi realizes after a moment is the remains of a soccer goal torn to pieces to produce this makeshift weapon. There is no way the boy can wield it effectively - he shouldn't even be able to hold it upright, with how much it must weigh - but even as Chi-Chi stares he's swinging it like it weighs nothing at all, slamming the force of it into the attackers foolish enough to stand up without any discernible hesitation even at the impact. It's impossible, it's _inhuman_ , and he's doing it anyway, moving with as much ease as if he simply has never been bothered by the demands of physics or the limits of an ordinary human body.

Chi-Chi staggers to a halt, catching herself before she can tip over. Her knees gone suddenly weak.

She waits for the end. It doesn't take long; the numbers of the attackers are meaningless, the flurry of their motion a desperate attempt for a victory made impossible before they began. They fall like dominos, playing cards knocked over by a breath of wind, and then it's over, there's just the boy breathing hard in the middle of the wreckage of metal and bodies, his shoulders heaving so hard Chi-Chi can see them moving even before she pushes forward to step out onto the ruins of the battlefield.

"Hey!" she called, pitching her voice caustic and bright so it'd carry over the distance as she moved in towards the boy. His head whipped around towards her, a scowl clear even before Chi-Chi can make out the details of the his features, his shoulders tight and rigid. Upon looking her over his scowl falls, he doesn't look particularly relieved, as his shoulders remained tense. Chi-Chi kept an eye on the pole still gripped in an irritated fist, trying to guess how much warning she'd need to dodge it. She's not sure. The thought shudders heat up and down her spine in a long shiver of adrenaline, requires that she take another moment to steady her voice before she goes on speaking.

"Goku are you... are you okay?" Chi-Chi's closer, now, the other's features coming into focus as she approaches. There's blood trickling from a cut on his forehead and the bruise swelling the corner of his mouth, His hair unusually spiky, golden and almost molded entirely into the sunlight. His eyes glitter in the sun, a clear teal she's sure she's never seen on anyone else but _him_. He almost looks otherworldly, and impossibly intimidating given the circumstances. But he's almost picturesque in the evening light, and it's hard to believe he's really there, in front of her looking just like he did all those years ago.

— **A/N**

I'm not sure if I should give Goku his normal appearance or his ssj appearance. Originally I'd wanted to give him the role as a 'tragic hero', or 'the misunderstood delinquent' as I thought it'd be kind of beneficial to the story, lol.

What do _you_ think? Leave a comment below!


	3. SUNSHINE

— SHUT UP AND FIGHT. 

Son Goku is a legend

He doesn't mind much. He'd never had normal hobbies, normal friends, a normal family, or a calm, boring, _normal_ life. He'd been doomed to abnormality since birth.

He doesn't mind the fame. He doesn't mind the notoriety that comes with the inhuman feats of strength he performs. His name had been a byword in the school halls before his first year of middle school is half over.

Goku doesn't know what started the fight.

It's a strange claim to make, when he's in the middle of a brawl that requires him to crush his fist into the fragile give of cheekbones and noses, when he has the remains of a soccer goal clutched in a hold so tight he half-expects to leave fingerprints on the metal under his grip. But it's the truth nonetheless, the fact of reality ever more unbelievable than fiction would be, that he has ended up - again - as the nexus for a fight he has little interest in and less involvement with. He thinks it was another gang, from what brief impressions he gets from the pattern of the jackets around him and the shocked horror on unfamiliar faces before he catches them with a punch or a swing of the metal pole in his hands. He wishes it was an unusual occurrence, wishes this kind of unprompted fight were the exception in his life and not the norm; facing down a dozen or more gang members determined to prove their worth is unfortunately ordinary. The only thing for it is to give in to the flare of irritation at the back of his mind, to let the fire of his anger uncoil through his body and seize control of his limbs, to surrender to the adrenaline-fueled strength in him and let his own uncanny ability end the fight for him rather than attempting the ever-futile pursuit of trying to find a reason for it.

It's over quickly. Goku doesn't track the time passing - there's no space for such when he falls into the fugue of blind rage that takes control of his body and uses him to end fights someone else starts - but by the time he's done the sun is still above the horizon, still casting orange-gold light across the space around him like it's the conclusion to some kind of action movie, as if there's any point at all to what Goku's just done other than the raw destruction that he's sure he'll find himself regretting later. He can feel his lip throb with pain as the adrenaline in him fades, can feel the warm wet of blood trickling from his hairline and across his cheek, and he's just feeling his breathing ease from the panting rush of combat into the strain of too-fast inhales in his chest when there's a voice from over his shoulder, from an audience Goku thought long since relegated to the safe distance behind closed doors and second-floor windows.

"Hey!"

Goku turns instantly, the lingering remnants of blistering adrenaline jerking him into motion before his conscious mind has processed the words. His fingers tighten on the metal in his hand, his aching mouth forms itself into the scowl that is a warning no one ever heeds; but the voice doesn't herald a new wave of attackers, doesn't bring a flood of bodies for Goku to mow through like he did the first round. It's just one girl, a high school student so small that even at a glance she looks like no kind of a threat, and Goku's anger eases into confusion as he watches his sole audience member approach with no hesitation in her stride.

Not exactly. A cluster of freshman, sophomores, juniors, and seniors alike are all pressed against the glass of the windows from every floor of the school, awestruck. Some are even stupid enough to watch at a 'safe' distance from the field. The majority are either frozen in shock or don't seem to believe what they've witnessed at all. But she's inching closer to him. Really, he'd expect this of Bulma and no one else.

"Are you... are you okay?" The girl inquired, eyebrows furrowed in something he thinks is worry.

Goku doesn't know her. He's pretty sure he's never seen her either. Her eyes are wide, framed by thick black lashes that brush and shadow against milky unmarked skin. Her shoulders are narrow, and her frame is shapely. Her hair is a waterfall of shining black hair that glosses down her back, The red ribbon tied around her collar brands her as a sophomore,

Goku swallows, his eyes resting on her face trying to process what the hell she'd ever want from him.

"I'm fine" He croaks, his voice hoarse. It sounds horrible even to his own ears. The girl blinks, mouth slightly agape as she stops at a safe distance. The girl lets out a breath of air, adopting a wry smile that makes it clear she doesn't really believe him. "Honest." Goku insist, only faltering her smile to a minimum. She shakes her head, finding her voice. "How did you ever manage to... to do this?" She throws her arms out, gesturing at nothing, at everything still looking awestruck. He looks away from the second-year, turns aside from her gaze and the shadow behind her eyes to look out towards the rest of the schoolyard instead, at the slumped shapes of his attackers arrayed around him.

"I've always been strong." Goku says, and lets the pole in his hand drop to the ground. It clatters by his feet, the weight of it rolling across the pavement before it comes to a halt, but his shoulders don't feel any lighter in its absence. " _Unnaturally_ strong. I don't know why." It's absolute truth. Goku is offering the words as much for himself as for the girl; there's too much weight in the back of his head to easily explain, too much history written into the bruises on his knuckles and the blood on his tongue for him to voice before his audience inevitably panics and leaves.

"I know. If it had been anyone else you might not have made it back in such a good state!" The girl says, tentatively stepping forward. Her skirt settles nicely at her hips, sliding down the rest of her body not sticking, but twisting about with every turn or movement. "I have to say I'm quite impressed. You're stronger than I remember." There's laughter on her tongue, amusement audible in the back of her throat; Goku glances up at her, frowning at the familiarity in her voice. She _must_ be crazy if she saw all that and would still want to stick around.

"What are you doing here?" He questions, stopping the girl in her tracks. Goku is expecting the girl to laugh. There should be a cough of sound at least, and then Goku will growl and the second-year will flinch backwards and that will be an end of it, the relationship will die to a memory as rapidly as it formed. But: "To say hi." is what he hears instead, so clear-edged and loud Goku can't imagine for even a heartbeat that he misheard. Goku's the one who draws back, confusion sending his shoulders tipping away as if from some unseen threat, and the girl seems baffled as if her intentions weren't clear enough. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, perhaps wondering if he'd heard her correctly. "Wasn't that obvious," she inquires, slowly, enunciating every syllable to crystal clarity as if Goku might not understand spoken language.

Goku doesn't know what to say. "What?" It's not the other's words he's struggling with, or at least not the basic components of their meaning; it's the meaning combined with the smile at the other's mouth, linked to the tenor of apparent sincerity on her lips until Goku can't make any sense of the whole. " _Why_?"

The second-year's mouth twitches. "I just transferred." She explains, as if that's enough to answer. Goku stumbles backwards as if he's been hit, as if the girl's words are a blow far more effective than the useless impact of the fists and weapons that he can shrug off like rainwater. " _What?_ " he starts with, and then, hard on its heels, while the other's grin falls as well as the all-over sparkle of mania behind her eyes, while Goku struggles for coherent protest and finds only one point simple enough to put voice to: "Didn't you see what happened earlier? Didn't you see how dangerous that was!? Are you crazy—?"

"Goku..." She stops him with a stern voice, and somehow that's enough to shut him up entirely. At this rate she's frowning, her lips churning into something dangerously close to a scowl. She looks _angry_ and Goku has not even the slightest reason as to why. He doesn't really know how to handle girls. "Yes?" He retorts, waiting for her to continue. She breaths, "Do you not remember me?!" The shift in her tone causes him to step back.

He gives her a once over. _Was he supposed to?_ He swallows as her expression eases into something more vulnerable. "No... I'm sorry. I can't really say that I do... uh, could I have your name? Maybe then I can remember." Her lips drag to the side, looking rather disappointed, only for a second as she stares blankly at ground. Goku waits, suddenly feeling guilty.

"Chi-Chi Mau." She says, looking up to him as his eyes widen in realization. " _What_!?" He nearly screams, scanning her over once more. The Chi-Chi he knew had once been taller than himself. A small cute girl, bashful and timid and nearly equal to him in terms of strength at his age when they had met. But this girl, this _woman..._ was she really Chi-Chi? What was she doing here? "The Ox Kings daughter?"

"It's not as if he's a king anymore." The answer comes immediately, as instantly as if the other were just waiting the opportunity to volunteer this information. Goku's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "He's not? What happened?" Chi-Chi sighs a no. "There was a fire not that long after you moved. I can't believe you forgot about _me_ Goku!" She huffs, and she's stepping forward, deliberately encroaching into Goku's personal space in a movement so unexpected it leaves Goku reeling back before he has a chance for anything other than reflex to lay claim to his actions. "I'm sorry!" He quickly apologizes, clapping his hands together in a mock prayer for forgiveness. The girl is still smiling, her lips dragging into a lopsided smirk at her mouth. She pauses, "Well... I can't stay mad at you, I'm glad I got to see you after all this time. You've grown a lot." She says, adopting a bashful look, and in an instance Goku can immediately recognize the expression.

 _I_ _can't_ _believe_ _I_ _forgot,_ he thinks. "I could say the same thing about you." He laughs sheepishly. "Let's start over." She smiles when she offers her hand she makes it look like a threat, as if the casual angle of her fingers carries the danger of an open blade. "It's a pleasure to meet you again," she continues, her smile going wider like she hasn't noticed Goku recoiling from her, or as if it's more encouraging than it is off-putting. "Son Goku."

Goku's eyes shift to the hand, "Ah... yeah," He says dumbly, but he's reaching for the other's extended hand anyway. Her fingers feel fragile under his grip, like they're made of glass and likely to shatter if Goku presses too hard. He flinches from the thought, reflex suggesting that he draw his hand free before he accidentally does damage to the delicate bones; but Chi-Chi's hand is tightening on Goku's, his fingertips catching and digging at the bruises on Goku's knuckles, and he can't pull his hand free without wrenching loose of the pressure of the other's hold. He grimaces instead, his mouth collapsing into a frown as he braces his hold around Chi-Chi's hand as deliberately gently as he knows how, and when he speaks it's with the simplicity of sincerity on his tongue. "The pleasure's all mine."

Her mouth curves wider, as if she's gaining traction on her pleasure from the sound of his own voice. "Charming." she drawls, her smile still clinging to her lips."Please take care of me."

Goku doesn't know what face he makes. It's a cringe, he thinks; but there's a shudder of happiness, too, some deep-down appreciation that he can't shake before it settles into his veins like it's locking itself into his memories. Her hand is still clasped tight around his, fragile fingers weighting to pain against the bruises Goku has collected during the fight he can barely remember, but he doesn't feel the hurt, not clearly. It falls in line with the weird heat humming up his spine, sparking to fire in his thoughts even as rationality fights for traction to insist that this is a joke, that he's being teased. It doesn't matter; in the end he can't resist the warmth that prickles up his spine, can't fight off the burden of implied responsibility the sweeter for its source.

He's never seen anyone look at him with such adoration.

\- A/N

Alright! A few of you have commented and messaged me about Goku's appearance, and it's been decided that Goku will maintain his natural appearance for the time being before it's dyed as I suggested in the previous author's note. Thank you for the feedback!

How do you think I did on this chapter? Did you like it, did you not? Please comment and favorite!

Until next time! ( ' ▽ ' )ﾉ


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